Arcane Mixtures
by yamikinoko
Summary: .Nekozawa x Haruhi. Sometimes, just sometimes, fairytales do come true.


**A/N:** _A first with a Nekozawa/Haruhi pairing (for me at least) as a flashfic for stereotypevamp; I LOVE YOU!! xDD As evidenced by my ceaseless stalking. I sincerely hope you like it; it was a last-minute plotbunny, Kinoko's screwed humor and dismal writing skills._

**Disclaimer**: _I do not own __**Ouran High School Host Club**__ or there'd be a heck of a lot of molestation reports in the police databanks._

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**Arcane Mixtures**

Just about every account of Prince Charming ever written depicted the hero as a young warrior, kind, gentle, but a skilled swordsman and a mighty horseman. And ostensibly, he also happened to bear a head of magnificent, golden hair and heartwarming blue eyes. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a gentlemanly temperament seemed to be the recipe for your average fairytale heartthrob.

Of course, he was aware of that. After all, he had grown up on the fairytales and had partaken in more than his fair share of picture books. In fact, he even resembled the esteemed personages of those selfsame saviors, rescuers-of-princesses, defenders of justice, those bright, shining, "creatures-of-the-light": his fair, silken tresses and his eyes, blue as only the summer sky could be, framed in the pale skin reminiscent of royalty.

Ever since he could remember, he knew his features were exceptionally... princely, shall we say. He, the eldest child and only son of the infamous half-Russian, half-Japanese family, whose namesake had become his sole appellation and only identity at the school he attended. At Ouran High School, he is known merely as "Nekozawa" or "Nekozawa-_senpai_", and sometimes even a whispered "Really-Scary-Really-Sketchy-President-of-the-Black-Magic-Club".

One might think that a well-tailored suit would best suit his appearances, but instead, he insisted upon clothing himself in a large, voluminous black cloak with a rather menacing hood that covered the black wig disguising his flaxen hair, thus ensuring that his body remained unharmed for all its aversion to light. That's right. For all his looks, Nekozawa couldn't bear the presence of anything related to light. There wasn't anything to be done about it. Life must go on.

Ouran High School prided itself upon its luminescent extravagance. Halls maintain a cheerful brightness within Ouran High but in those rare pockets of shadow here and there within the building, you might see movement, a glimmer of pale white before even that disappeared as well. Your imagination? You hurry on.

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Haruhi knocked on the door of what she hoped was the room hosting the Black Magic Club; she had gotten so many differing answers and horrified stutters that she wasn't even sure the organization was a club or if it was a cult from the very depths of Hades, sent by the Devil himself to maraud the unfortunate souls on earth. If the Host Club was the only one in the school without teacher supervision, how did a teacher ever agree to sponsor this particular club?

She raised her fist to knock again and before her knuckles struck the wood, the door eased open slowly, ominously, just a crack into what seemed a dark and forbidding room. A breathy, sibilant voice floated out to her,

"Yeesss...?"

Weirder by the second. "Uhh… I'm here to see your president, Nekozawa-_senpai_?"

There was a pause, then the same unclear voice responded, "I shaalll iiinfooorm hiiimm… Whaaat naaame do I giiivee…?"

Haruhi resisted the urge to twitch at the rather serpentine voice and rallied her courage, "Just-Just tell him Fujioka Haruhi has found something of his."

The door shut abruptly in her face and she blinked in mild surprise, wondering if she should attempt to knock again or drop the cloth bundle in her hands at the doorstep in order to flee from all things of an uncanny nature. Before she could do either of those things however, the door swung open again, wider this time so she could see a hooded, cloaked figure in what little light fell into the pitch black room.

"I wiiill taaake youu tooo hiimmm… Folloooww meee…"

She could have refused. For some reason, that musty, incense-smothered room scared her almost as much as yesterday's thunderstorm. But as she – her nature – was wont to do, she braced herself and followed her eerie guide further into the confines of that sinister, unnatural dark.

Logic infers that in the dark, she should have lost the dim figure in front of her, who was melting into the shadows as if he (she was pretty sure it was a he) were part of gloom. At the very least, perhaps she should have tripped on something and fallen flat on her face, but surprisingly, neither of those things happened and she was led into what appeared to be an inner sanctum of sorts, lit by tiny flames atop ornate candelabras, with one imposing individual amidst the circle, supposedly the one she had come to see.

It was then that she realized her shady escort had disappeared without a word, with nary a sound, leaving her to invoke the second year's attention on her own. Catch the attention of the light-hating, antisocial President of the Black Magic Club. No problem.

"Umm… Nekozawa-_senpai_…" she began, then tried again when there was no reaction, "Nekozawa-_senpai_, I found something of yours in the hallway," her fingers found the two arms and shook out the bit of cloth. The muted flap was what finally made him turn around.

"Bereznoff, you find your way back to me!" Nekozawa exclaimed voice throaty with blissful elation, holding out his hands very much in the fashion of an eager child and extracted his puppet from her hands, "I was praying to the powers that be for your safe return!" He probably would have gone on if he hadn't realized that his joyous reunion also encompassed an audience.

His pale complexion colored slightly as he withdrew Bereznoff into his ample sleeves, no doubt to refit the puppet onto his hand, clearing his throat and when he next spoke, his voice had dropped to a low, hissing quality meant to elicit shudders from its hearer,

"I thank you most profusely for your assistance in the return of my beloved Bereznoff… I must find some way to repay your generous deed… Perhaps you would like to purchase a voodoo doll at seventy percent discount…? A consultation with the vengeful spirits of the Netherworld at a reduced fee perchance…? You need only name it… Your wish is my command…"

'Some actual lights in here would be good,' Haruhi thought caustically but answered aloud, "Uhh… No thanks, I'm really not interested," she glanced around, trying to remember which direction led to the door, "But your offers are… charitable all the same. If you don't mind…"

She edged away and with a flutter of his cape he was in front of her, blocking her retreat, "Seventy-five percent discount… It's my final offer…"

"Umm… That's… really not the issue here…" Haruhi muttered as she tried to slip around him to no avail, drat that stupid cloak-cape thing.

He had stopped completely and something told her even through the impeding gloom that he was puzzled, "You… do not wish possess your enemy with a demon…?"

"No," Haruhi said firmly, "No more than I wish to speak with the dead, to buy a voodoo doll, or- or- wear that cloak all day!"

Now his voice came back apprehensive, without the sinister undertone, "What is wrong with the cloak?" a defensive quality entered his tone, "I like this cloak."

Haruhi sighed, her hopes of a quick escape long destroyed, "There's nothing wrong with the cloak." For some reason, the conversation reminded her of reassuring a child, albeit a bigger, much bigger child. Or Tamaki. Yes, that was a better analogy. It was like reassuring Tamaki. "I just can't imagine anyone looking good in it."

"I look good in it," he muttered. Great. Now he was offended.

"Your wig looks good in it," Haruhi countered and though blunt, she was still in the reassuring/comforting mode. Zero-malice and all that, you know?

No answer came her way this time and shrugging, she stepped to the side and on top of something flat. Frowning now, she bent down to pick it up (despite the images of sacrificial stone tables and cutting boards her mind conjured), her fingers brushing against a smooth surface. Closer examination under flickering candlelight revealed it to be a book. A book that was quickly snatched away by a suddenly edgy Nekozawa,

"That's mine!" he blurted, almost by way of explanation.

Haruhi raised an eyebrow though he probably couldn't see, "Umm… Alright…" she glanced around and tried again, "If there's nothing else, could you please show me to the door? I don't think I could find it myself."

Wordlessly, he turned around and she hurried to follow the swish of his rapidly disappearing cloak before she was left behind.

"Here you are," he said presently, stepping to the side. She took that to mean that they were in front of the door and she walked forward tentatively, hands forward to keep from colliding with something unpleasant and her questing fingers met the cool metal of the handle, very nearly causing her to sigh with relief as the door swung outwards to let light – oh blessed light – embrace her once more. With the radiance – however much it made her eyes smart – returned her usual aloof, amused temperament and she turned to the dark form huddled just barely beyond the reach of light,

"Thank you very much, Nekozawa-_senpai_. I'll be going now," she turned to leave, then as an afterthought, twisted to face him again, "Oh, and Nekozawa-_senpai_? I enjoy reading fairytales sometimes too." And with that parting shot, she strolled off, thinking of excuses for Kyouya-_senpai_ as Nekozawa stared at the book in his hands with distinct astonishment.

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Not two days after her "Ordeal with Shadow and Gloom", Haruhi was walking down the hall when she noticed some rather strange behavior upon the part of her peers who were in front of her. Though the halls were busy, her fellow students were shying to plaster themselves to the walls as they went by, almost like crabs.

She was musing upon the nature of these peculiar (and undeniably comical) antics when her foot collided with something soft and pliant, sending the selfsame object flying a couple feet away. A collective gasp sounded throughout the suddenly silent hall and quite abruptly, every pair of eyes present was fixed solely upon her.

Haruhi was used to people staring at her; after all, being the poor scholarship student at such a prestigious school was bound to raise a few eyebrows. But this wasn't staring, more like they were expecting her to… drop dead at any minute, charming though that sounds. And trust me: you do **not** want people staring at you like that.

"Yea… Happy to see you all too," she muttered as she walked another few steps to pick up what she had inadvertently kicked, drawing another horrified intake of breath from her rapt audience.

Small, stubby ears over wide, feline eyes greeted her in the form of the puppet Bereznoff and she resisted the urge to sigh. Welcome to Ordeal with Shadow and Gloom Part Two.

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This time however, Haruhi had only knocked twice on the door before it swung open to encompass her odd guide from her visit before,

"Coommmee… Theee Maasssterrr isss waitiiinnggg…"

She moved to follow him, but then stopped, puzzled, "Wait, he's waiting for me? How did he know…?"

The cloaked figure turned to face her again, "Theee Maasssterrr knowsss allll thiiinnggssss… Coommmee…"

Once again she was led into the "inner sanctum" and once again her escort left without a sound, leaving her to deal with the enigmatic second-year alone,

"Umm… Nekozawa-_senpai_, I found Bereznoff again."

Nekozawa was currently sitting at a desk, poring over a book by candlelight, and if she wasn't mistaken, it was the same book she had stepped on the day before.

"…Nekozawa-_senpai_?"

A cloaked arm waved her towards him vaguely enough and she stepped forward curiously, though still cautious. It turned out that he was reading the story of "Sleeping Beauty" and he looked up at her with an almost childlike wistfulness,

"Will you read it to me? It's my favorite part."

"Umm… Sure…" she traded the puppet in her hands for the book, squinting to focus on the words in the spotty glow of the candles,

"_The prince emerged victorious from the hallway, leaving behind him the prone forms of his former enemies, able no longer to torment the princess--ah, the princess lying upon the bed peacefully who drew his gaze as nectar draws bees. His steps found him by her bedside and an inexplicable urge seized him. He bent over and gently, very gently bestowed upon her rosy lips a tender kiss_."

Haruhi paused and looked up but he motioned for her to go on so she obliged, returning her attention to the beautifully decorated pages,

"_And so it was that the princess arose from her slumber, gazing at long last upon the handsome features of her rescuer and her rosy cheeks flushed a little in wonder,_

_'Noble sir, I perceive it is you that I must thank for my most opportune rescue from this dank, unimpressionable dungeon. You have my everlasting gratitude,' and even as she spoke the fair visage of her savior prince lifted in a comforting smile, a quirk of the lips that very near stole her breath away._

_'The trials I endured for the sake of my lady fade from my memory as but a distant nightmare in the face of your unparalleled beauty. My breath I had imparted to waken you from your rest, but now, by your leave, I wish for a kiss to enshrine my steadfast dedication to you.'_

_His request was granted and not soon thereafter, they ascended the dais as the monarchs of the kingdom to live… happily ever after._"

Having finished, she closed the book slowly as he continued to stare off into space, the silence growing to be unnerving. She was considering slipping away when he finally spoke up,

"Kirimi expects me to be a prince," he mumbled, referring to his diminutive little sister, who abhorred the dark as much as he despised light, "She expects me to be a prince like one of those in these books, but…" his voice became regretful, "I cannot manage to be anything but a Lord of the Shadows… I have prayed to the powers and spirits that she will grow to love the dark, but alas… She continues to flee from its welcoming embrace. Oh woe is me, that this fate should be mine, forever estranged from the pleasant company of by beloved little sister forever! Would it be that-"

Haruhi sighed as she recognized the traits of yet another melodramatic. Maybe it was a foreigner thing, "Can't you just try to stand light?" she interrupted, not too unkindly, "You did it once before; you could probably do it again."

He stopped to look at her, a bizarre mixture of hopefulness and apprehension on his features, "Do you really think so?"

Haruhi shrugged, "Of course. I could help you. For starters, take off the wig and the cloak," at his chagrined look, she gave him one of her own, "We're practically in pitch darkness in here. Just do it."

He grumbled and took more time than was necessary but he finally shed the cloak and stood there, sort of hunched in on himself. Haruhi walked up to him and slid the wig off to one of his pained whimpers, a sound that she was to well acquaint herself with in the next couple of weeks, "Now see, it's not so bad, is it?"

His indignant expression was more than enough answer for her.

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For the next week or so, she coaxed, tricked, begged, and ordered him in a variety of different ways for the sake of exposing him to just a smidgeon more of light. And for the next week or so, she suffered under Kyouya-_senpai's_ sharp, calculating stare as she once again gave a weak excuse as to why she was late for the club meeting every… single… day… Nobody should have to experience such agony more than once in a lifetime. Not even once.

Finally, on Ordeal with Shadows and Gloom Part Nine, Haruhi was attempting to cajole the adamant Nekozawa into the hallway for his first experience in a light-filled environment. Haruhi was determined that she would get him out of the room for five minutes and he was just as determined that she wouldn't.

"Come on, I'll read you another fairytale if you'll stand out here by me for just five short minutes, alright?"

Nekozawa had displayed a rather childlike partiality to someone reading to him and he seemed to like Haruhi reading to him best of all. Most likely because hissing minions weren't good for anything else than scaring customers.

In any case, the offer must have been tempting because he paused, then shook his head stubbornly, "No."

Haruhi tried a few more times with next to no success and finally threw her hands up, "You know what? Fine. I tried. If you're not going to cooperate-" she stepped back and collided with a pair of students passing by, "Ah, sorry."

No use. They both turned to look at her and she suddenly realized she recognized them from Renge-_kun's_ ill-fated filming spree,

"Hey, watch where yer goin'!" one of them snapped.

"I said I was sorry…" she muttered, brushing herself off. It was the wrong thing to say. He grabbed her by the lapels and shoved her up against the opposite wall,

"Heeyy… I remember you…" he drawled, "You're that pretty boy who almost got us in trouble last time. Well, you won't be so pretty after I'm done with you."

She probably should have dredged up some semblance of fear, after all, the guy was going to beat her up, but she found her eyes drawn to Nekozawa, still standing in the doorway. His friend turned to look at what she was seeing and tugged on his friend's shirt sleeve nervously,

"Uhh… Dude. Dude. L-Look behind you."

With an exasperated grunt he turned to look and what he saw withered the smart remark from his lips into a whimper of horror.

Light flowed gently into the dark room where a dark, menacing figure was silhouetted and reflected on a pair of luminous eyes, looking at them with a decidedly manic flair, insinuating bloody murder and things much, much worse. It was enough to make the two tough he-men drop their intended victim in order to shanghai it down the hall and out of sight.

Haruhi winced, massaging her bruised hip and looked up in time to see Nekozawa take a tentative step towards her, then another. She smiled encouragingly and he bit his lip to take another step… and tripped on something, his legs, whatever, out of either sheer nervousness or something else and fell backwards, hitting his head on the doorframe. It easily knocked him out cold and Haruhi raised an eyebrow,

'My hero. Be still my beating heart,' she thought sardonically, crawling over to him. He was still breathing. Good. She thought about poking his side to see if he would wake up, but instead elected to blow into his ear, where she had discovered he was ticklish (a long story involving a feather duster and a couple of candles). He woke up with a yelp to see Haruhi's amused brown eyes above him,

"Finally awake?"

He flushed in embarrassment and got up quickly to flee when she stopped him with a few words,

"_My breath I had imparted to waken you from your rest_," Haruhi recited, face unreadable as she looked at him, "_but now…_"

He turned back to look at her as she stood up and approached him slowly. The broad band of light falling across his face was completely forgotten as she looked up at him, the first beginnings of a grin appearing on her lips, "_By your leave, I wish for a kiss to enshrine my steadfast dedication to you_."

No, they didn't receive a kingdom to rule over together, but oh, was there ever a request more enthusiastically granted.

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Halls shall forever remain cheerfully lit at Ouran High School and those infrequent pockets of darkness exist still, but now, as you pass through the hallways, it wouldn't be an uncommon sight to see the scholarship student, Haruhi Fujioka, wrestling with something within the shadows, appearing to converse with the bizarre entity within, then suddenly disappear entirely into the niche to appear a few moments later, cheeks flushed and breathless.

He would tug gently and slowly, a handsome blonde-haired, blue-eyed stranger would emerge nervously and they would hurry down the hall hand-in-hand, Fujioka seemingly being dragged along by his anxious companion, laughing as it happened. A foreign exchange student? Perhaps, but it was just peculiar enough that you would shuffle off to start the rumor that maybe, just maybe, special scholarship student Haruhi Fujioka was – whisperwhisper – gay.

The princess Nekozawa and his knight on shining armor, the girl known as Haruhi. It was a fairytale just esoteric enough to come true.

./OWARI;

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**A/N**: _Wow that was fun. Unexpectedly so. It's a strange little pairing, if I do say so myself. Hope you enjoyed vamp; I hope it's what you wanted…? Butchering would be nice; before I started, I thought it was going to be impossible to write._

-MshRm


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